Page 47 of If Anything Happens To Me

“He put a band around my head, tightened it,” Iris said. “He hooked me up to a machine and said it would just take a minute, it was just to measure brain waves. But it looked as if it came out of a horror movie—it was so old-fashioned and weird-looking.”

Minerva nodded. “I know that equipment. Remember when I said the Sibylline sisters were moved to the health spa?”

“The Miramar?” I asked.

“Yes. All kinds of doctors came there, trying to help the sisters. The girls were famous, and beloved, and everyone wanted to save them. They were in their early twenties . . . it was nearly eighty years ago. You can imagine how old the equipment is,” Minerva said. “Fitch used it on you?”

“Yeah,” Iris said.

“Me too,” Minerva said. “That was what I was referring to, when I said he hurt me. I thought he was joking when he first put the band around my head. But he flipped the switch, and it shocked me.”

“Us too,” Iris said. “He told us he was putting us to sleep, that we’d wake up refreshed. Then he gave us sedatives or something. He’d run the test, but it would hurt—it felt like a shock. And then the last time, I didn’t wake up for a while. It must have looked like I died. I only regained consciousness when Fitch was burying me in the woods. I realized what was happening and played dead, because I knew it could be my chance to escape.”

“Oh my God,” Minerva said. “Iris! Fitch buried you? He tried to kill you?”

Iris looked down, as if trying to gather her thoughts. “I don’t know if he meant to,” she said. “I think it was an accident, because he cried. I could hear him when he was burying me. And I felt his tears on my face. He sprinkled something on me—it tickled my face. He kept saying he was sorry.”

“How sorry could he have been?” I asked harshly. “Considering he was shoving you into a hole in the ground?”

“Come on, Oli,” Iris said. “It was just an impression.”

“And considering he did the same thing to my sister,” I said, feeling almost rageful at Iris for describing Fitch in such an understanding way.

“What are you talking about?” Minerva asked.

“I found Iris buried alive,” I said. “In the same place my sister was found.”

“The same place?” Minerva asked, stunned.

“Yes,” I said.

“You’re saying Fitch put your sister there?” she asked.

“He must have,” I said.

“Is your sister okay?” Minerva asked me.

“No, he killed her,” I said. “He murdered Eloise.” Grief welled up inside me, washing over the rage, merging with it, creating one gigantic tidal wave of terribleness, of loss, of the worst feelings in the world.

Minerva held one of my hands, and Iris held the other. Even though I never cried in front of people, nothing could have stopped the sobs from ripping out of my chest, the tears from flooding down my cheeks. Iris and Minerva were new in my life, but it felt as if I had known them longer than anyone else, anyone but Eloise.

When I was finished crying, Minerva used one of those soft white towels to dry the tears from my eyes. Iris brought me a glass of water from the sink next to the workbench. I sipped it until I could breathe normally again.

“We have work to do,” Minerva said.

“Like what?” I asked.

“First, Iris—you said Fitch sprinkled something on you, when he thought you were dead.”

“Yes, what was it?” Iris asked.

“You know, don’t you?” Minerva asked me.

“Gold dust,” I said. “Like the kind he took from you?”

“Yes,” she said, looking more worried than before. “He might think he’s doing medicine, as far as the brain wave tests go, but he’s also practicing alchemy. He’s taking a page from the tome.”

“What tome?” I asked.

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